Of Tonsils and Time Lords
by Ms. Moonstar
Summary: The Doctor's gone up against tons of enemies, but what happens when he has to have his tonsils out? A humorous hurt/comfort fic. Please read and review!


Of Tonsils and Time Lords

by Ms. Moonstar

DISCLAIMER: I never have or shall own the rights to Doctor Who.

* * *

The Doctor fiddled with the control panel of his TARDIS, occasionally glancing over to his companion Martha Jones, with a smile.

"Where to next, then?" She asked cheerfully, looking up at the time machine's 'heart'.

He shrugged nonchalantly, "Your choice, past, future, close by or edge of the universe."

His companion seemed to think about it a moment," How about the past...pick whatever year you like." She had been in his company only for a short time, but already they had connected with the excitement as well as the danger as they traveled the stars.

"Right!" he exclaimed, pulling a few levers and pressing a few buttons. She caught him rubbing his throat out of the corner of her eye.

"You alright?" She asked, already knowing what he would say.

The Doctor looked up from the control panel, "Hmm? Oh, yeah, fine. Throat's just a little dry is all." He flipped another switch, causing the ship to sway, then finally come to a complete stop. His Cheshire grin lit his whole face. "So then, welcome to Renaissance era Italy, Ms. Martha Jones!"

* * *

Both The Doctor and Martha sighed in relief as they reached the doors of the TARDIS and gratefully stepped inside.

Not long into their 'trip' to Italy, the pair were enlisted to help save the human race from the Mistmancers Of Mizar Eta, an ugly race of slug-like aliens that sought to repopulate through human beings.  
They hadn't escaped unscathed, however, the greyish-tan bits of the aliens were strewn all over their hair and clothes.

"Remind me to never to take on that lot again!" Martha exclaimed with disgust as she pulled a long string of goo from her hair and examined it with some contempt. 'Ugh, I'm gonna go take a shower and take a nap. It looks like you need to as well Doctor."

"No argument there," The doctor agreed, running a hand through his spiked brown hair and earning a hand full of alien guts as the back of his companion disappeared into her own room.

When Martha returned to the TARDIS' control console, scrubbed, changed into a fresh set of clothes and having an hour's sleep. The Doctor already there, again studying the screen panel with deep concentration. Something was not right though, he looked paler, with circles under his eyes and a few beads of sweat clung to his forehead and bangs that she knew wasn't from the shower he had taken.

She inched in a centimeter behind him and saw him rub his throat again.

"Doctor," She called out, making him start and turn around swiftly. "Are you all right?"

"You startled me!" he quipped.

"No, I mean are you all right? You look kinda pale, and your rubbing your throat again."

"I'm fine," he reaffirmed, "I just have a bit of a sore throat is all."

"Doesn't look like it to me," she returned, crossing her arms, "When's the last time you slept? And don't give me that 'I'm a Time Lord and don't need as much sleep as humans' bit, 'cause I'm not buying it. " She laid a hand across his forehead, "You've got a bit of a temp Doctor, care to explain that?" She took The Doctor by the arm and dragged him to the jump seat near the console.

"Stay there a minute, I'll go get some supplies from the med station." Martha instructed, then ran into the medical room to scrounge for a small torch, thermometer, and tongue depressor, which appeared in drawers that opened automatically. Sure, they were crude 21st century instruments, but they would do the job. Quietly thanking the TARDIS, Martha returned to the console room.

Going back to The Doctor's side, her medical training took hold.

"Sit down," Martha ordered, and the Time Lord grudgingly obliged by sitting on the jump seat. She stuck the thermometer in his mouth and waited. When it beeped, she pulled it out of his mouth and read it. "37.6, Doctor. Bit high for you?" Next, she pulled the tongue depressor and torch from her pocket. "Say 'ahh' ."

The Doctor pouted, clutching a few of his loose brown locks of hair. "I'm _fine, _Martha."

"I'll be the judge of that, " She snapped, " 'Ah!' "

He frowned, but opened his mouth.

Martha examined his throat for a few moments, then removed the depressor. She looking a little perplexed "If I didn't know any better, I would say you have tonsillitis."

"Tonsillitis?" The Doctor huffed indignantly.

"Yep, except for the double hearts your mostly human. You're bound to get run down or sick. How long since before this has your throat been sore?"

The Time Lord shrugged, "On and off for about...a hundred years."

Martha's jaw dropped slightly, "A hundred years? You've been trekking around the universe for that long with this?" She stood straighter, "And how long since it's gotten this bad?"

The Doctor winced, afraid of the backlash that would ensue, "Ohhh, I dunno, maybe a year or more."

"You need to have them out." Martha said firmly.

"It's just a sore throat!" The Time Lord shouted.

"Yeah? Well it's more than that Doctor. If you don't have your tonsils taken out then not only will you be run down, you won't be able to outwit aliens properly, and you don't want that do you? I can tell that it is affecting you because your tonsils are keeping you from sleeping. You've not been eating properly either, even for you. "

He turned away so as to not look at her, "It's not like I could waltz into a hospital on Earth to get them out."

She sighed, "I know that." Then her eye lit up. "What about a hospital on some advanced planet in the universe? Surely they treat all kinds of aliens and wouldn't question you?"

The Time Lord turned to face her, a frown set upon his usually bright features. "I can't. I may hide my identity but there are few places where my name isn't known." His eyes suddenly grew, "Unless you do the operation."

"What?" Martha now sounded a little indignant, "There's no way I could, I'm still a doctor in training! You need a specialized doctor for this kind of surgery, an otologist."

"So you're gonna go out there, fetch this doctor, and bring him or her or it back to the TARDIS? I'd like to see you explain that." The Doctor said, crossing his arms playfully.

"It's either that or the hospital. Your choice," She huffed.

"There's also a third option." The Time Lord said with a beam, placing a hand on one of the levers on the control panel, "We can ignore the fact that I have Tonsillitis and keep traveling."

"I won't let you do that, Doctor," Martha hissed, putting her palm on top of his, "You can't simply run away from this, it's your _health_ for goodness sakes!"

The Doctor's shoulders seemed to slump in defeat. "Your right, Martha Jones. And you made me do something I rarely do-change my mind."

Martha's eyebrows rose in utter surprise. That really was uncharacteristic of him, which made her slightly uneasy.

"Well!" Her companion shouted a distance away from her, causing her to thoughts jump their track, "I know just who we can go see. He owes me a favor, from, oh I dunno, ages ago. Doctor Jamie Kichath of the Solitude Metropolis. Owns a clinic, the main clinic actually on the whole of the planet of Afinei. We'll go there." He smirked and pulled another lever, making the Tardis lurch as they were thrown head long into the depths of space.

* * *

When they reached Alfinei and stepped out from the Tardis, Martha couldn't help but feel she was an ancient version of Earth, save for the large white multi-story building. The grass was blue-ish green and the sky a lovely aquamarine, while the burnt orange sun shone overhead, and the time machine stood on a hill overlooking the city. Ahead of them were large spire buildings that were not futuristic, but rather like an old civilized city as they were made out of white stone.

"Wow, this is...amazing." Martha whispered in amazement as she glanced around. "But why is it called the "Solitude Metropolis?"

At that moment, something that looked like hidden security camera's popped up out of the ground, a green light scanning the pair before a computerized voice said, "State your names and reason for being on Alfini."

"The Doctor, and Doctor Martha Jones to see Doctor Jamie Kichath." The Time Lord replied. The security beams disappeared back into the ground. He chuckled as he said, "Now you know. This is a planet where the ill and injured come to be healed, it has a sterile environment." He pointed to the grass, " everything is synthetically made here, right down to the blades of grass." The Time Lord explained as they walked into the city.

It hadn't taken them too long to reach the clinic and enter through a huge set of automatic glass doors into a fairly large lobby where a small number of alien species were waiting in the waiting room. It looked like any other clinic or hospital, save for the odd bulbous headed creatures in lab coats walking about seeing to patients. Martha looked over to see her companion frown.

"What?" she sputtered, suddenly worried that something was wrong.

"There's no gift shop, I always like a gift shop."

Martha sighed in exasperation at his 'revelation' as she followed him to the elevators.

"Better stay with me. Last time I had my companion in another lift, we got separated, and well...events unfolded."

They both entered the elevator, and the second the doors closed and her companion gave the direction, The Doctor cleared his throat. "You might want to close your mouth, the sanitation process is about to begin."

"The sanitation what-?" She shrieked, but yelped as they proceeded to be washed, rinsed and dried while The Doctor, who seemed use to this, calmly let himself be cleansed of germs. The lift stopped at it's destination onto a ward, where a tall lanky sandy haired man also in a lab coat at a console stood with his back to them.

"Jamie!" The Doctor called out, and coughed slightly for a moment.

The man turned, his face human (much to Martha's relief) with slight freckles and grey-blue eyes.

"Aye, if it isn't my old friend, The Doctor!" Jamie Kichath returned with a beam, with a distinct Scottish accent that she placed instantly. Before she could try to comprehend how someone from Britain could have gotten this far out into the galaxy, his eyes turned to her. "How've you been, boy? Oh, I see you have a new face. What is this, your 11th regeneration?"

"10th actually."

"And who is this lovely lady you have here?" He asked.

"Ah sorry. Doctor Jamie Kichath, this is Doctor Martha Jones."

The two exchanged greetings, then Jamie addressed The Doctor again. "And what brings you out here to Alfini? Chasing some intergalactic monster then?"

"No, 'fraid not, Jamie." Her companion sighed.

"It's his tonsils." Martha blurted out, and receiving a surprised glance from both men.

"His _tonsils_?" Doctor Kichatch asked caustically raising an eyebrow at his friend. "That's the least interesting case I've had today."

"_See_, I told you." The Doctor muttered.

"He's been putting off getting them checked for a hundred years." Martha returned quickly. Now the scathing look went to her companion, and she quipped, "See, I told _you_."

"Follow me please. I'll exam him." Jamie said with a turn, and they soon followed to an exam room, which again looked almost similar to the ones on Earth except for the strangely shaped instruments she didn't recognize.

"Hop up there, take off your coat and suit jacket and roll up your sleeve." Doctor Kichatch directed to The Doctor, who groaned.

"Is this really necessary?"

"Yes!" She and the clinic physician replied sharply, making The Doctor put his hands up in defeat, but did as he was told.

Jamie picked up a white disc from the tray and placed it on The Doctor's forearm, which instantly bent and adhered to his skin. A holographic chart popped up displaying the patient's vitals. She note that his heart rate and blood pressure looked _normal, _in whatever was the sense as he was a Time Lord.

"Temperature is up to 38.6 degrees C (101.5 F), and your white count is up, Doctor." Jamie remarked, advancing towards the Time Lord to check his throat, pulling a tongue depressor with what looked like a mini-camera on it from his pocket. A few seconds later, another scan replaced the old with an image of The Doctor's throat.

"Tonsils are inflamed, they'll definitely have to be taken out."

The Time Lord groaned, which made Martha roll her eyes. "Seriously, you battle against all sorts of hostile aliens and yet your afraid of getting your tonsils out?"

"I'm not afraid!" he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance.

"Sure." Martha drew with a grin.

"It won't take but half an hour, it's an outpatient procedure." Jamie reassured them, "You'll be able to return to the TARDIS by evening. "

"I have no choice, do I?" The Time Lord muttered.

"Nope." Martha said with a shake of head.

* * *

"Is this really necessary?" The Doctor asked for the 30th time in ten minutes, his features soft with the first symptoms of sleepiness.

Martha rolled her eyes as she adjusted the I.V, careful not to disturb the sanitation shield on her wrist that she and Jamie wore.

He lay on a table in a smaller room wearing dull white scrubs, while Jamie started to prep him, Martha acting as his assistant with the procedure.

"I tell you what," Martha remarked, "When this is all over, I'll get you as much banana ice cream you want on the TARDIS, yeah? You'll be fine Doctor, you'll just not be able to talk for a few days."

The Doctor's eyes widened and his companion chuckled, "It'll be a loss for sure." She quipped playfully.

"My healing ability will probably pick up the slack. " He muttered even more quietly, the medication now taking a full grip over the Time Lord as she squeezed his un-tethered hand, while emptying the final anesthetic into his I.V.

"We'll get started," Jamie began, "I read from his med file that it took three attempts at using human anesthesia for him to go under during his seventh regeneration self, so I have to use a powerful dose. However, I don't know how long it will actually last, so we'll have to work quickly."

Martha watched as the Doctor's eyes turned glassy, heavy eyelids slipping downward as he finally succumbed to sleep.

* * *

The pair worked quickly, Martha's eyes glanced at the Time Lord's vitals to ensure that they remained stable.

"So," Doctor Jamie asked, breaking the silence, "How did you meet the Doctor?"

Martha went into the story of how they met at Royal Hope Hospital, and how she had saved his life (she blushed at this part).

"What about you?" Martha blurted out without really thinking, and suddenly felt foolish.

"I met him in his 8th generation, if you can believe that, I don't know how many years ago that was for him. For me though, it's been about 10 years. I was on the ship I was stationed on _The Vigilant_ as the ship's physician. When the Doctor was there, the mechanic on board sabotaged the ship so it nearly fell into a cold star. Eventually we were saved by the doctor, but The Doctor got hypothermia and fell ill for a few days. I nursed him back to health." Martha saw Doctor Kichath shoot a smile at the prone man before continuing. "Afterwards, I traveled with him. I saw so much suffering by many species, so that's why I was glad to to build a hospital here. I have The Doctor to thank for that, he got the word out that I needed staff and I was able to begin work."

Martha smiled too, but then it faded, "He always seems to get the worst of it though, doesn't he?"

"The Doctor can be stubborn at the best of times, especially when he tends to put others before himself." Jamie shrugged and returned to his work, "but that's just his nature, I suppose. By the way, you said you were a doctor, why didn't you do the surgery yourself?"

Martha found herself tinging pink, "I'm still-I'm a doctor in training, actually. "

The other physician nodded, "Fair enough. There, all done! He'll be right as rain in no time."

She thanked him and pushed her sanitation shield too 'off' and sat beside him, a fond smile overtaking her features as she watched the Time Lord sleep.

* * *

Almost an hour later, the Doctor woke to find Martha Jones reading a dog-eared magazine that was in her lap, and holding his hand with the other. He suddenly couldn't remember what could possibly have caused him to be in the hospital, but just a quickly, he remembered about his tonsils and frowned. Looking up, he saw to his relief, that all the medical equipment was gone.

"Martha" he rasped quietly, which got the doctor in-training's attention.

"No, don't strain you're throat." She told him, turning to pick up something on a small table, and showing it to him, "See? Psychic paper, you can eh-talk to me this way. I hope you don't mind, I nicked it out of your coat pocket. "

He nodded to the paper as an indication for her to read it. It said, _No, I don't mind, that was a brilliant thought by you, Martha Jones._

"Thanks. How are you feeling?" She asked, looking down at the paper again.

_Throat's even more sore than before, thanks. You sure that having them out was better? _

Martha rolled her eyes and chuckled, "Now don't complain, you're fine. Doctor Kichatch said he had to tend to some other patients, but he'll be back any time 's been checking in on you every ten minutes."

At that moment, the automatic doors slid open and Jamie walked in and sat beside Martha. "Ah, you finally decided to wake, did ye?" He joked. "I'm here to check my stitch-work and then you'll be on your way. "

Jamie switched his sanitation shield to 'on' and checked the Doctor's throat. After a few minutes, he straightened and grinned. "Looks good. You'll need a few days rest and some light food will get ye back on your feet in no time. You can get dressed now."

He addressed Martha this time, "Would you follow me, please? I need you to sign the release papers and discuss his medication, not that he'll be needing them. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some more interesting cases to look into today." He winked jovially at the Doctor. "Feel free to come back and see me, just...not as a patient."

* * *

It was only when they had trudged up the hill to the TARDIS that Martha noticed how tired and pale the Doctor looked. His steps were slow, and his head bobbed to his chin and suddenly snapped awake. They had climbed up the ramp to the console when Martha pointed up the stairs.

"Bed. Now. You're exhausted and need sleep."

The Time Lord opened his mouth to argue and but was cut off.

"Bed." She said in her most authoritative doctor voice. "I'll bring you some warm tea and some soup later."

The Doctor's face shifted into one of disapproval. She looked down at the paper and read: _You promised me banana ice cream. _

The doctor-in-training sighed and this time, she put her hands up in defeat. "Okay, okay, I'll bring you banana ice cream."

The Time Lord's grin reached ear to ear as he nodded to the wallet again. _Thank's Martha, you're the best. _He charged up the steps, while Martha went into the kitchen.

Much to her surprise as she was preparing the tea, she felt the warmth of the psychic paper in her pocket and pulled it out to read it.

_I want to get a pet goldfish. _

Martha stared at it for a minute, wondering if he was messing with her, and then burst into laughter. The Doctor had said once that you couldn't let your mind wander with the psychic paper and this was proof. She couldn't help but feel like she should tease him a little, especially since he didn't have the voice to really defend himself.

Luckily, the TARDIS seemed to know her Time Lord's preferences, for when Martha opened the freezer, she found a full carton of banana ice cream. She prepped a tray loaded with enough tea and ice cream for two and headed up to the Doctor's room. Martha had been to the Doctor's room once before. when she nursed him after he'd been sick with the aftermath of absorbing a living sun. Finding his bedroom was easy as the door slightly ajar.

The Time Lord lay half sitting up in his pajamas, his eyes closed and breath slow as he lay dozing. She almost felt that she should leave him in peace, but knocked on the door and jarred him from his light sleep.

"Hey," Martha called softly, "I brought the tea and ice cream you wanted, Doctor."

The Doctor opened his eyes, mouthed his thanks, and she sat in a chair next to him as he began to eat.

"So..." She began, "What kind of fish would you like for a pet?"

The Time Lord, who had been sipping on his tepid tea, sputtered and glanced over to her wide-eyed. _How?-_

She brandished the wallet and chuckled, "Shouldn't let your thoughts slip, remember?"

The Doctor was still gaping at her, but soon recovered and smiled gently. _Well, there are several places in the universe that have ginormous fish. There's Ebion, they have fish that glow in the dark. There's Segitrya, it has a fish that looks like flowers. And then there's..."_

But the Doctor didn't finish, he trailed off after a generous yawn and closed his eyes falling into an exhausted sleep. Martha brushed his cheek like her mother did when she was a child, then gathered the dishes and slipped out of the room so the Time Lord could nap.

_**The End.**_

* * *

A/N: Whew! The little 1500 word project I set out to do went over 4000. I am sorry if this isn't Brit-picked or if the Scottish wasn't perfect. I hope you all enjoyed it anyway.


End file.
